Kin
by epiphanies
Summary: Jack, Will and Elizabeth arrive in Tortuga to find somebody Jack has dearly missed for years. Her name is Desdemona Turner.
1. Default Chapter

Kin

by : epiphanies

  
  
  
  


Her name was Desdemona. She had black hair and brown eyes, that looked black in all but the starry moonlit evenings of the Caribbean beaches.

She'd lived on the island of Tortuga ever since she could remember, her mother having died at birth.

She'd been born without immunity to illness.

So, she and her father took a ship down to the Caribbean for medicine. 

He put her in the care of an ancient medic on the island of Tortuga, and left to sail the seas in search of cures and riches. He only wanted the best for his daughter, his only child, his Desdemona.

He visited her frequently, patting her warm forehead as she slept and twirling locks of her hair in his fingers as she smiled weakly, bravely, at him from her bed.

He'd said, "I'd like you to meet a dear friend of mine, Desdemona."

Her eyelids fluttered as her hand was gently kissed by a rough mouth, her mouth curved into a smile as she surveyed the man's rugged good looks. She saw kindness in his haggard eyes, amusement mixed with pity in the lines of his mouth. She wanted to paint him.

He was a pirate.

She'd known, as she had never known before. Her father was a pirate, and this was his friend. His Captain.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Her father went on a mission with his crew that summer, the summer she turned five. He never returned. 

But his friend did. His friend did, and told her of her father's death. He held her as her tears washed into his sunned skin, as her nails dug into his shoulderblades, as her face buried itself into his neck. He did not protest.

He visited often, the captain did.

Until one day, he didn't.

She never gave up hope, however, that the captain, so much like her father, would return to her and allow her to cry into his neck again. Allow her to smell the sea in ways she never could from her bedside. 

She waited in vain.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Fifteen years had passed since she had last seen her father. Ten, since his loyal mate had last stopped on Desdemona's doorstep. 

She was a weak girl, but her ancient medic was finally edging to a final and certain death. She had no choice but to join the tavern and serve the locals their brew.

She sighed as Richard Cornover sloshed his beer down his front, and sputtered in protest. Before he could call for another round, she set it on the table afront him. He winked at her.

She hated working at the tavern, and yet it was her only escape.

Her only escape from the acidic scent of the medic's home, her only escape from her caregiver's constant fawning over her.

Her legs twinged with unabashed pain. She bit her lip to contain a small gasp and wrung her hands in her apron. How many more years of this torture would she have to endure until somebody, anybody, rescued her from this prison of an island?

  
  
  
  


* * *

"Back to Tortuga, Jack, and you haven't yet said why." Will Turner reminded Jack Sparrow, holding on for dear life to his betrothed, Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at Will, "Back to Tortuga? You've been here before?"

Jack turned and gave her a small smirk, "Will was positively basking in this city when I first introduced him to it, I don't know why he's nervous now."

Will frowned at him, but didn't say a word.

"Jack, honestly, you've kept us on this little hunt quite long enough," Elizabeth grabbed Jack's elbow and twisted him around. Jack raised a swift eyebrow as she continued, "You cannot just show up on my doorstep and expect us to follow you on whatever quest you please us to."

"Funny, because I'd thought I just had."

"Jack," Will interjected as Elizabeth scowled, "Please, tell us what you need us to see."

"Tis got natch to do with her," Jack referenced vaguely to Elizabeth as he pushed his way into a rowdy tavern, "Not my fault you can't go anywhere without your lass, mate."

"Fine, then. What has this to do with Will?" demanded Elizabeth, watching Jack survey the tavern. He waved his hands nonchalantly, "You'll just have to wait. I need to get something first."

"A pint, no doubt." 

Will rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling as Jack leaned over the bar to speak to the barmaid, and consequently, received a very loud slap.

"I don't suppose you understand what that is about, do you?" Elizabeth murmured, and Will shook his head, "No, I don't. But it seems that every woman in the Caribbean is owed some form of debt from Jack."

Jack walked in his usual way back to them, and rubbed his ruddy cheek.

"Deserving?" Will inquired, and Jack pouted.

Finally, he muttered, "Probably, but it doesn't matter. No, it does not. We must be getting to-"

"Shiver me timbers," whispered a voice from behind Jack that made him whirl around like a butterfly, "Isn't it Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Will and Elizabeth stepped forward to see a young woman with her hands wrung together, staring at Jack as though he were the sun and the moon.

"Desdemona," he said, with a softness that Will nor Elizabeth had ever heard him employ, "I was just on me way to see you, love."

"I'm sure," her dark eyes sparkled as they never left his face, "How dare you return and not see me first."

"But I have," argued Jack charismatically, smiling, "I'm seeing you now."

"You thought I'd still be ill, in bed and alone. How I surprise you, always, Jack." Desdemona smiled wider, then realized that Jack was not alone. She glanced at Elizabeth, and then at Will. Her face froze.

"Jack."

Her voice held a question that Will did not understand.

"Ah," Jack glanced at Will, then back at the raven haired waitress, "Yes, I thought this would be interesting. The reason I'm here, actually."

Will cocked his head, "I don't understand."

Desdemona's eyes widened as she whispered, in an enormous awe, "He sounds just like him."

"I don't understand."

Jack turned to Will, attempting to grab him in an apologetic embrace, "Mate, I couldn't tell you."

Desdemona said it first:

"I'm not William Turner's only child, am I, Jack?"

Will's eyebrows shot into his hairline, then furrowed, then knitted. Jack was almost amused, watching them.

"Jack?" Will was now asking the unsaid question.

"You two are brother and sister." Elizabeth pronounced, for the world to hear.

"Half, actually," Jack added speedily, before Will could say a word, "Just half. He met Desdemona's mother, and she died. Then he went on more travels, met -your- mother, and then went back to find Desdemona, only to find his best friend-"

"You." Desdemona supplied, and Jack nodded fervently, "Aye, I, mutineered by me crew and stranded on a spit of land with naught more than a few coconuts to tide me over until death."

Elizabeth didn't catch him in his lie, for she was too caught up in the story.

"As for after my escape, I returned to Tortuga to tell William's daughter of the death I'd watched from the island. I returned a few times after that, but then having no ship caught up with me. When I found you, Will, I thought about telling you, but that would have only complicated things."

"So, now that things are lovely and uncomplicated, you need to complicate them again by telling me that I am not, in fact, William Turner's only son?" Will's mouth was set, and Desdemona half-smiled at him.

"Actually, you are. I am, in fact, his daughter. No other children, I'm afraid."

Jack turned to her, "Why are you not very surprised, child? I feared you to rise out of your frailty and wrench off my head!"

Desdemona only laughed, "Jack, it is not for me to mind what my father did before he died. He was my father. He was a pirate. He had another child. He also left me in the best care in the Caribbean, allowing me health and life, and leaving me with a dear friend that I have missed ever so much."

Elizabeth and Will exchanged glances. Could it be real? Somebody, a woman, Will's own sister, feeling an acute affection for Jack Sparrow?

"You must all stay with me," decided Desdemona, "in the tavern's bedrooms above. I can have them for free as long as nobody else is occupying them.."

"You're the loveliest, darling," Jack drawled, wrapping an arm about her neck. She winced slightly, and his eyebrows rose.

"You're obviously not as well as you seem," Will said gently, "Do not worry about our accomodations, Desdemona. Worry about receiving some rest."

Desdemona stared up at Will with moon eyes, "I had never thought about having a brother before, but now that I do, it is quite nice."

"I feel the very same way," Will said sincerely, then ushered her away to rest.

Once she'd disappeared from sight, Will expected Jack to make a beeline for the door - or at least, the bar. But he only stood there, with a wistful smile on his face. He slung an arm around Elizabeth and said,

"You're a good scone, you know that?"

Elizabeth smiled slightly as she picked up three large mugs from a rickety table, "You're not as bad a 'scone' as you wish most to believe, Captain Sparrow."

Jack hushed her with a finger, and Will snorted. 

It was true, after all. Jack Sparrow was a good man. To have come back to care for his best friend's daughter after death, after mutiny, after losing his dream... Jack Sparrow had to be a good man, and Will could see it in his eyes when he looked at his half-sister. Jack cared for her, more deeply than he had probably cared for anybody but Will's own father. The look of shared adoration between Jack and Desdemona actually sparked a question in Will's mind: Could there be more than a friendship, more than a companionship connection, laying dormant between the two? Could Desdemona have feelings for Jack? Jack, have feelings for anybody, lest Will's own blood?

Will decided that he was getting far too ahead of himself and decided to focus on making the tavern shine - or, rather, making it considerably cleaner than it had been with only Desdemona in charge. He wanted to help her in every way that he could, for he could see that she was not well. He reminded himself to ask Jack about her ailment later. For now, he busied himself with clearing plates as Jack downed the half-empty pints left about, proclaiming that he was 'cleaning up the waste.'

  
  
  
  


* * *

A/N - I never do author's notes anymore, but I have to ask : Shall I continue? I've never done a Pirates fic before, and I don't know if I like it. I just needed to get it out, because I've seen the movie possibly four times in the past forty eight hours - take into account that I've had exams, sleep AND that the movie is 2 ½ hours long. Oi. I'm tired, but exams are over, and the Draco/Pansy stories should start coming out any time now. Tata for now! 

~epiphanies

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. In Which Pillowfights are Interrupted by...

Kin

Part Two: In Which Pillowfights are Interrupted by Governor's Daughters

by : epiphanies

  
  
  
  
  
  


Elizabeth woke up in the morning with a groggy sigh. She'd never slept on so lumpy a bed, even on the Black Pearl (for the Black Pearl actually had lovely mattresses, lined with velvet drapes...or perhaps that was only for her. She didn't quite know.) She stretched and dressed, and once she'd walked into the hallway, she knocked on the door that Jack and Will had been sharing.

Only hearing a strangled grunt, she opened the unlocked door and stared at the two in awe. 

There were feathers positively everywhere, and a bottle of rum spilled on the floor next to her feet. She shook her head in incredulity.

"I cannot believe that you two fought with pillows over a bottle of rum."

"Actually," Jack raised his index finger in feeble defence, "We fought over the pillows -with- a bottle of rum, but then the rum was in danger of spilling, so we put it over there so it wouldn't-"

Jack stopped dead, then his eyes widened as he dropped the bedraggled pillow and rushed to the bottle, trying to salvage the last drops that hadn't seeped into the wood floor. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned around, "I'm going to check on your sister, Will."

"Half sister!" called Jack. She ignored him.

She reached the room at the end of the hall, and knocked lightly.

"Yes?" said a weak voice from within.

"It's Elizabeth," she called, "May I come in?"

"Of course," the voice behind the door responded, sounding relieved.

Elizabeth entered and contained a small gasp.

"You're so pale!"

Desdemona shrugged, and Elizabeth noticed the blackened spots below her eyes, "I'm often ill. It's not such a fuss for me, I can take care of myself."

"Oh, don't be silly," Elizabeth hiked up her skirts slightly and moved closer to the bed, "You shouldn't be up today. I'll make the boys do your job, and I'll take care of you."

"That won't bode well," Desdemona tried to smile, but ended up grimacing in a sort of pain. Elizabeth felt a pang of pity and affection for her soon-to-be-husband's sister.

Half sister, a voice that sounded annoyingly like Jack scolded in her head. 

"It need not bode well with them if it bodes well with me." Elizabeth smiled mischievously, "Would you like some breakfast?"

Desdemona sighed, "I suppose that would be nice, yes. As long as I can keep it, if you understand."

Elizabeth nodded sympathetically, "I'll fetch a basin as well."

  
  
  
  


* * *

Jack was mourning for his bottle of rum, Will trying to re-stuff the pillows with distinct red patches on his pale cheeks, when Elizabeth re-entered their room. 

"You don't suppose they give free spirits to their patrons, ay?" Jack stood up hopefully, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "I would say not."

Jack pouted.

"But," she started, beaming, "I suppose they wouldn't mind paying you in rum if you worked all day as Desdemona does."

Jack narrowed his eyes at her, "What means you by that?"

Will looked concerned, "Is she alright? Does she need medicine?"

"She needs breakfast, and she needs rest. As the two of you have probably never looked after somebody ailing in your lifespans put together, I'll stay with her, and you two can carry her trays for today."

"We get breaks, right?" Jack called after she shut the door, and Will grimaced.

"It's for the greater good, Jack." he said resignedly, and Jack pursed his lips.

"Precisely what I'm worried about, son."

  
  
  
  


* * *

Elizabeth used the tavern kitchen to prepare eggs for Desdemona, and brought them up with a glass of coconut milk. 

"I do appreciate this, Elizabeth," Desdemona smiled at her, and Elizabeth smiled back. She could see Will's eyes, and his chin, and, at a certain angle, his cheekbones.

"I don't mind at all. After all, you need to get better so that Will can get to know you properly."

Desdemona smiled wistfully, "I'm so glad for him. He seems like such a nice... what does he do, in any case? What do you do? Did you meet each other serving, or through Jack?"

Elizabeth blushed, "I met him in the crossing from England when we were nine years old, actually. My father gave him as a servant to a local blacksmith and he grew up with the trade in Port Royal."

"Your father gave him as a servant? How could one..."

Elizabeth's blush deepened, "My father is the Governor of Port Royal."

Desdemona's eyes widened, "Wow. Will, lucky sod! You fell for Will, my poor brother? A blacksmith, son of a pirate?"

"I didn't know everything for a very long time," she admitted, "but neither did he. He learned of his father mostly from Jack. He didn't know that his father had been a pirate."

"He never met him," Desdemona said softly, "Oh, he never met him. Poor Will."

"Was he a nice man?" Elizabeth had a sudden urge to know everything about Will, about his father, his sister, his background. She wanted to know things that Will himself did not, and she felt guilty for a moment.

"He was..." trailed Desdemona, a wistful look enveloping her features once again, "He was wonderful. He was handsome and talented with his hands, as I suspect Will took from him, being a blacksmith. He was kind. He left me with the Tortugan medic only so that he could go on a search for cures, for treasure for cures, for my illness."

"What is your illness, exactly? If you don't mind my asking," Elizabeth said hurriedly, twisting her fingers together gingerly. Desdemona saw this and reached over with frail fingers to stop her.

"I do not mind at all. It's not one illness I have, but little capacity to send off any. I have nearly no immunity to illness. I suppose I was just born this way."

"You're very lucky that you've not been sicker, I suppose," Elizabeth thought out loud, "Though the Caribbean is probably one of the best places for the ill to reside, I suspect."

"Aye," Desdemona agreed, "I would not have lasted half this long in London. But you wanted to know about my father. I shall tell you a story of when I last saw him..."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

William Turner knocked promptly on the wooden door of a small house he'd known for years, trusted for years to hold his greatest of great treasures. His daughter. 

The golden skinned medic opened the door and smiled, not saying a word. She merely pointed down a very short hallway to a bedroom with the door cracked open.

He entered, and smiled.

His daughter slept peacefully, her window open and bed facing it, he supposed to watch the ocean and feel the spray of the sea (which he knew she only imagined, for they were far too away from the shore to feel anything of the sort.)

He wondered of her health. Her skin was pale, and breathing ragged. But she breathed, and that was what mattered most.

He sat down next to her bed and put his rough hand over hers. 

"Shiver me timbers and deck me halls, through prison gates and waterfalls, a pirate's gold and silver too, has given up all it's shine to you," he whispered, watching the sun set in a plumed horizon that reminded him of his Captain's outrageously outlandish hat. He smiled. She would have been so happy to see Jack today, but Jack had promised that he would see her before they left Tortuga again. 

William understood Jack not coming. Jack had a date with a rum tankard that had laid empty for the fortnight in which they had sailed from their previous destination to Tortuga, and William was happy that Jack had declined his invite to his first visit to his daughter for three seasons. Jack was a terrible grump when sober, anyway.

"Father?"

She'd awoken in his serene moment of mixed up thoughts, and he jolted to life.

"Desdemona," he cocked his head and grinned, "You look lovelier than you did the last time I was here, aye."

She giggled weakly, and squeezed his hand, "I'm feeling ever so much better, Father."

And he knew she was lying, but he was lying when he'd said she looked lovelier. So, in both their eyes, they were square.

"Is Captain Jack here?" Desdemona yawned, and her face fell when her father told her no.

"But," he raised a promising index finger, "He told me that he would visit you at least thrice before we leave the island again."

"You haven't found anything yet, have you?" she asked gently, staring out at the sea, where she thought she could see the outline of a grand ship, but she was probably just dreaming it.

He sighed, "Not yet, poppet. But I think we be getting close."

"Good," she nestled herself into her pillow, closing her eyes, still holding his hand, "Stay with me until I wake, father?"

When she woke, hours later, she found her father asleep on the chair beside her, and a form she recognized lounging at the doorway, watching them with wistful and haggard eyes.

"Jack!" she whispered excitedly, and Jack stepped forward and petted the young girl's head.

"How be me little piratess?" Jack leaned on the foot of her bed, and she beamed at him, "I'm well, Jack, much better now that you and Father are here."

Jack nodded, and pulled something from his sleeve.

"I brought something for you this time, crumpet."

He handed it to her and she looked at it, entranced.

"It's a diamond!" she decided, and he snorted.

"No, darling, tisn't a diamond, but sure is pretty as one, aye?"

"Aye," she agreed, and he winked at her, "It's really from your father, but he was afraid to give it."

She knew he was lying too. It's what pirates did. But she smiled nonetheless, and fell asleep with that smile on her lips still. It was there until she woke, finding herself alone again with no ship to watch on the horizon outside of her bedroom window.

  
  
  
  


* * *

"But that's sad!" Elizabeth cried, " He left without saying goodbye?" 

"He wrote to me," argued Desdemona, "It was just that the Royal Fleet had shown up in the mid-night and they had to get the Pearl away from there. They had no choice."

"And you never saw him again?"

"Never. At least, I thought so. Until I saw Will yesterday."

"They look that much alike?"

"Indeed," nodded Desdemona, "Indeed, they do. If I didn't know better."

Elizabeth thought of something, "So you fancied Jack as a little girl?"

"I fancy him now," grinned Desdemona, "What woman could not? He's charming. I was sure as gold that I would marry him when I became of age."

"Do you love him?"

"As a daughter loves her father, for after that last visit, he was the only one I had."

"He kept coming back?" Elizabeth cocked her head, and Desdemona nodded fervently, "Oh, he came back every spring. Never failed, until he just...didn't come. But I can understand. He had no ship, no crew, nothing. He'd been mutineered and thrown off of the very thing that had kept him alive as long as he'd been. I'm surprised that he lived without the Pearl, for she was the air that pumped in and out of him. He spoke of her like a young man in love speaks of his lover, and even as a very young child, I knew I could never compete."

Elizabeth snorted, thinking of the evening she'd taught him the Ode to the Pirates, then started, remembering their conversation. About the Pearl, what the Pearl meant, what the Pearl was. She nodded slowly, beginning to understand.

"Well, enough about that," Desdemona's eyes were beginning to flutter, "I should think I should get some more rest so that I don't have to trust the tavern to the-"

A loud roar came from the tavern beneath them. Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"I'll look after it," she promised, and Desdemona smiled as she hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

A/N - I'm not used to having such long chaptered stories, but I'll try to keep it up. What are you guys thinking? Still doing ok? :) More Jack in the next chapter, if you think I should still continue and I still think it's an okay story. Let me know! 

~epiphanies

  
  
  
  



	3. In Which Jack Lies, Drinks and Says Pira...

Kin

Part Three : In Which Jack Lies and Drinks and Says Piratey Things

by : epiphanies

  
  
  
  


Jack grumbled all the way down to the kitchen, and Will tried his hardest to ignore him. 

When they reached the kitchen, they both stopped dead. 

Half a dozen men leaned on the bar counter, drooling and moaning. Jack rolled his eyes and Will frowned.

"Alright," called Will, "Everybody up and out. The tavern's being cleaned."

A middle-aged blonde man with two missing fingers gurgled in the corner.

"Oi, piddlewidgeon?" Jack poked Will out of the way, straightened his hat and smiled, "Scurvy bilge rats, guess what? The tavern next door is giving away free buckets o' rum, and we're afraid that we," he motioned to Will and himself, "have already had our fill. So, seeing as there is at least two buxom wenches in there, I'd get there as soon as I could."

Will gaped at Jack as he sat on an empty barstool and picked up a mug. Will grabbed a cloth, and Jack's hand landed roughly on his.

"Drink first, mate."

Will shook his head, "It's not right, Jack."

"Oh, come on, Will!" exclaimed Jack, outraged, "I can't wake up without it! You can't be expecting me to help you when I'm," he positioned his chin on the dirty counter, "asleep, now can you?"

"I will not help you drink yourself into oblivion so that you will only stumble back up to the room and collapse without helping me a bit anyway," argued Will, wiping down the counter, and when arriving at Jack's head, pushed it out of the way. Jack fell off the stool promptly.

"See?" Jack whined, and Will sighed.

"Fine. Only the one."

After Jack downed the glass, he clapped his hands together, "Now, what?"

Will threw a towel at him, and Jack looked down at it skeptically.

"What exactly-"

"Wash the tables," Will instructed, "And don't pretend not to know how, you've waxed the wheel of the ship enough times in my presence for me to recognize a man who knows manual labour."

"Giggle time's over in Will's kitchen, I s'pose," grumbled Jack as he walked to the diner section, and Will was glad that he wasn't facing him. He hid a grin.

A form appeared at the doorway suddenly, and pointed at Jack.

"There ain't no tavern next door!" the man yelled murderously, approaching Jack unsteadily, "You just wanted me place in line for the affections of Miss Desdemona!"

Jack smirked, "Aye, mate. I pine for her in me' sleep, you know I do."

The man roared and flung his mat of grey hair out of his eyes, "You be not touchin' Miss Desdemona!"

Jack withdrew his sword quickly and held it to the man's throat. It glinted in the sunlight.

"And you not be touchin' me, savvy?"

Elizabeth appeared at the bottom of the stairs, looking half annoyed, half alarmed.

"What in the world is going on here?" she demanded, and all three men looked down.

"Jack, what are you doing? Who is this man?" she stalked over to stand beside Jack's blade, between he and the swaying patron.

"This, Elizabeth, is no business of yours," Jack motioned with his head for her to move away, but she stood her ground stubbornly. The grey haired man no longer looked upset, but intrigued.

By Elizabeth's bosom.

Elizabeth noticed his fascination and she crossed her arms.

"What is your business here, sir?" she narrowed her eyes at him. His eyes gleamed,

"Depends on what you be makin' it, Miss."

In less than a second, Jack's sword was in her hands, and the blade was pointed considerably lower than his scabby throat.

"You have no business here." she said hardly.

The man backed up with his hands in the air out into the street, then turned and fled.

Elizabeth tossed the sword back to Jack, "Go upstairs, Jack. I'll help Will."

Jack made a nodding prayer gesture as he backed toward the staircase, "Much appreciated, darling."

As he disappeared upward, Elizabeth turned to Will and sighed, "He does find trouble."

"Or , if not, trouble finds him." agreed Will, still scrubbing at the sinks. Noticing that Elizabeth hadn't picked up a cloth, he stopped and leaned on the bar, looking at her.

He held it out, and she took it. He didn't let her hand go.

She moved closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Oh, Will," she sighed, "I cannot wait to get back to Port Royal," she trailed and looked into his eyes. He kissed her, and touched her tousled hair.

He had a thought.

"You know what would be...well, what I think..."

She looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed, "What?"

"We should bring Desdemona back to Port Royal with us, when we go," he said, "and she could be there. You know... for the wedding."

Elizabeth's mouth curved into a smile, "Of course. That would be lovely. And I could have her wear a dress the colour of the sea and carry orchids."

Will looked positively delighted, "And perhaps we could find her a mate there, somebody to marry, a distinguished man, to bring back every good about the Turner name."

"Well," Elizabeth smiled, and Will saw a hint of a smirk there too, "I know of a certain Commodore that isn't currently attached."

Will laughed heartily.

"So, what went on here?" she asked casually as she swept up pieces of a broken plate.

Will shrugged, "That man had his eye on Desdemona. Started threatening Jack."

Elizabeth glanced up at him, "Was Jack defending himself, or Desdemona?"

"You can never be sure, with him," Will sent her a roguish grin, and she nodded.

"Probably Desdemona, by the way she was speaking to me about him earlier. She said he was like a father to her."

Will raised an eyebrow, "Jack?"

"Mmhm."

Will looked resolutely thoughtful as he dipped his hands in a bucket of water, but Elizabeth decided not to ask. She already felt badly enough for knowing more than he about his own father. He could find out from Desdemona himself.

  
  
  
  


* * *

A/N - Short chapter, I know. I have a few plans for the next ones. Hope you guys are liking these! The few reviews I've gotten have been plenty kind, so I decided to continue. Hope I'm keeping Jack in character (the rest don't matter as much to me. lol.) 

~epiphanies


	4. In Which Jack Says Some Awfully Brillian...

Kin

Part Four : In Which Jack Says Some Awfully Brilliant Things

by : epiphanies

  
  
  
  


Jack knocked lightly on Desdemona's door.

"Elizabeth, would you mind sending Jack up?" Desdemona called, and Jack swung the door open gallantly.

She smiled at him from her bed, "Bright girl."

"She's a good scone," nodded Jack, closing the door behind him and leaning on it, "Knows how to fight, too. Looks lovely in one of those Port Royal navy uniforms. So, how're you doing, love?"

Desdemona half-shrugged, "I'm still here, am I not?"

"About as here as I am, that's all I can promise," Jack grabbed a chair and sat backwards on it, looking down at her with unusually gentle and clear eyes.

"I missed you terribly, Jack." Desdemona whispered after a moment of silence, "I had nobody, for a very long time."

"I'm sorry, love, I just never-"

"No, no. Don't apologize. I understand. I hadn't heard anything about you, I figured you might have just disappeared."

"I did," Jack conceded, "in a sense."

"Drowned in rum?" Desdemona chuckled, and Jack grinned a little bit, 

"Well, you know me, darling. But in all seriousness, I always intended on comin' back, y'know? Just...never had me a boat."

Desdemona nodded, "Or a crew."

"A boat," Jack repeated, "Who needs a bloody crew?"

"You have a crew now, do you not?"

Jack shrugged, "They're not too shoddy. Could live without 'em if I had to."

"But you don't have to, Jack," she frowned at him, "Don't always focus on being alone. Why will you not just enjoy being around people, having them to help you?"

Jack sighed, "Because, love, that's when they send you off to die of starvation on an island the size of a blue whale."

"That was another crew entirely, Jack. From what I've heard, your new crew loves being under your hand."

"I love having them under me hand," admitted Jack, and Desdemona touched his rough cheek.

"You were always so dark, hidden beneath all that rum, all that swagger," she mused, touching the braids hanging off of his chin, "Always so furtive. At least, since my father-"

He took her hand off of his face and held it within both of his own, "And you were always the passionate little one, the one that loved to watch us dock in the pier so that you would know when we left port."

"You used to call me your piratess, do you remember?" she said wistfully, looking out the open window that revealed mid-day sunlight, "And you brought me little trinkets and jewels."

"They were from your father," Jack said lightly, and Desdemona laughed, "You and I both know that they weren't. They were from you. After all, Jack, you never had anybody to be passionate about, other than me. I was the only person you knew off-deck, wasn't I?"

"Passion?" Jack repeated, "What did I ever have to be passionate about? Passion doesn't exist, Little Miss Turner. Passion is a reward for containment. If one lives in true passion, they'd never under-appreciate anything. Like me. I appreciate me crew, and me ship, and having you here to come visit. I appreciate Will and Elizabeth and Commodore Norrington not actually following me when I escaped the gallows awhile back. I appreciate a lot of things, and therefore don't need to be overly passionate about anything."

Desdemona considered him, "Jack, you know, for a pirate, you say some awfully brilliant things."

Jack smirked, "That's why I'm not just a pirate, love. I'm a Captain."

"Aye. Captain Jack Sparrow. My father's captain.."

Jack looked pensively away, "You were like a daughter to me, Desdemona."

"And you a father to me. A second one. A fostered one. Like a brother or an uncle, like a father."

He smiled then, and rested her hand onto her bed. 

"I should be letting you rest, aye girlie?"

Her eyes were drooping slightly as she smiled childishly back, "Aye."

With her final word, her eyelids fell like shooting stars, and he only sat there, watching her, until he was pulled from his half-oblivion, half-wistful mist by the grumbling of his stomach.

  
  
  
  



	5. In Which the Ocean Brings Comfort

Kin

Part Five : In Which the Ocean Brings Comfort

by : epiphanies

  
  


The ocean whispered to her.

"Desdemona," it sang, sweetly seductive, entrancing her, pulling her from her sheets to stand at her window.

"Desdemona," it called to her, "We know you're there, Desdemona."

The waves clutched hungrily at the shore, "We know you're listening. Come to us, Desdemona. Your father calls for you...he calls for you. He needs you, Desdemona..."

She clutched her window sil and her eyes grew wide with terror as, in that moment, a form was gently washed ashore. A man.

A dead man?

She gasped and seized her doorhandle. She fled into the hallway, heading for the stairs-

"Not goin' off to meet some eunuch blighter for a midnight stroll, are we?"

Jack's gold teeth glinted in the light of his candle. She tried to push him out of the way, but he grabbed her arm, concern in his eyes.

"Wha's'matter, love?"

Instead of speaking, she pulled him down the stairs with her, out of the tavern and onto the beach.

"Des-de-bloody-mona!" he gasped, gaping at her, "What-?"

Then he stopped. He too saw the man, newly washed ashore, laying on the beach.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, and they rushed down to the wet sand. Desdemona felt a foreboding thud in her chest.

She soon found why.

"William," Jack whispered, and placed his hand over his heart at he knelt down with her. Tears filled her eyes and the world began to spin...

The last thing she heard was an alarmed, 

"DESDEMONA!"

  
  
  
  


* * *

She awoke on the sand of the beach, and sputtered. 

"Father," she whispered mournfully, and lifted herself up to look about her, searching the shoreline for any sight of him. Where had he gone?

"I'm here, love," said a voice from behind her, and she whipped around to see Jack with his arm around her, he too sitting in the sand, crosslegged. He looked disturbed...in a drunken kind of way.

"Jack, where did he go?" she demanded, and upon no answer, looked over at what he was entranced with. Her hand slapped her mouth, wondering why she'd not smelled the smoke in the first place.

The tavern...

It was nearly gone. From what she could tell, only the few pillars holding it up remained.

And her father was nowhere to be seen.

"Jack!" she turned and shook him, and he looked at her with distorted eyes, "Jack! Listen to me! Where did my father go?"

"Your father be long gone, Little Miss Turner," his eyes rolled around in his head a few times, and he swayed before falling backward into a drunken coma.

"Damn you, Jack Sparrow," she whispered, turning to look out at the sea, lapping, lonely and cold, "Why could have you not lied to me? Told me that it was more than a dream, more than a wish. That he had just been here, laying beside us, and that he'd started breathing. You're a dishonest man, why could you not lie?"

She got no answer.

She felt a blanket envelop her and Will's voice whisper, "If he could have, he would have."

"If I knew it could bring me comfort, Will, I would walk into that ocean right now. But there is nothing to tell me, not a sign or a hint. I want my pain to end."

He sat down beside her, pushing Jack over, and put his arm about her.

"Where is Elizabeth?" she asked softly.

"On the ship already."

"What ship?"

"The Pearl. We're going back to Port Royal."

"You cannot leave Jack here."

"Of course not. We've rounded up the crew, all we need are you and Jack."

She paused, "Jack - and I?"

"I'd like you to come and see our wedding. As my sister."

"Half sister," she reminded him, and smiled, "and I'd be glad to."

"Good."

And with those words, she leaned on her brother's shoulder and fell into a dreamless slumber.

  
  
  
  



	6. In Which Will Realizes That He Really Wa...

Kin

Part Six : In Which Will Realizes That He Really Wasn't the Favourite

by : epiphanies

  
  
  
  


Her eyes fluttered open and she gaped at her surroundings. She knew immediately that she was on a ship - the Black Pearl, likely. She hadn't been on a ship since before she could remember, and the swaying made her stomach turn.

She threw the covers off of her to find her still wearing her dressing gown from - what time was it? What date? Had she slept a night through? An entire day?

"Hello?" she called out meekly, and a man appeared at the window of her doorway. He knocked and entered, allowing in a ray of brilliant sunlight, smiling broadly.

"Name's Richard Gibbs, Miss Desdemona. Who is it you be callin' for?"

She attempted a smile, "Elizabeth? Will? Jack?"

"All of 'em?"

She sighed in relief, "No, better make it..." she remembered the evening before, "make it Will, please."

"Aye, and you just get back in bed. Miss Elizabeth ordered me to make sure you got your rest."

"I wouldn't want to get you in trouble," she sat down on the considerably soft mattress, showing her obedience, "If you'll only get Will here. I need to speak with him."

"Are you needing anythin', anythin' else?" Gibbs smiled crookedly, and she felt a welt of affection for this stranger, "No, I'll be fine, thank you."

"Your welcome," he nodded and left. 

She bit her lip. Were all pirates such gentlemen? She'd never known any, other than Jack and her father. All of the men in Tortuga fancied themselves pirates, of course, living on a tiny island surrounded by water, but none of them were actual pirates, true scallywags. Dirty blighters, perhaps, but not pirates in any way, shape or form.

"Desdemona, are you alright?"

Will had entered, looking worried. She smiled reassuringly, "I'm fine, thank you, Will. Although, I must say, I do not remember the crossing from England, and this ship moves something awful. Is that quite normal?"

"We're steady at the moment," admitted Will, sitting down beside her, and she laughed.

"Figures that a daughter of a pirate knows nothing of the trade."

"Oh, never fear," Will's eyes twinkled, "I knew nothing of it either, before Jack."

"You learned a lot from Jack, did you not? He taught you about my - about our - father, and the sea-"

"Jack taught me more than I wish to know," Will looked out the window at the turquoise sea, "He taught me the truth. He taught me that everything I'd been told as a child was wrong, that piracy could sometimes be good. He taught me about oppourtunities, something I might never have risked if I had never met him."

"You mean Elizabeth," Desdemona said softly, "You never would have had the courage to court her, if not for-"

Her eyes grew wide as the ship lurched slightly, and she placed a hand over her mouth.

"Oh, oh," flinched Will apologetically, "That's Jack for you, trying to wildly conquer the sea with every wave, oh, I'm sorry!"

The nausea passed and Desdemona smiled weakly, slowly lowering her hand, "It's quite all right, Will. I know how rambunctious Jack can be, or , at least, I can believe everything I've been told. After all, he's never been anything but a gentleman in my presence."

"He must really love you," Will smiled at her, and she looked at her hands.

"I do love him, you know," she said quietly, "Not in any fantastical way, just in a small way, that's enormous all the same. I love the way he moves his hands, and ties his shirts, and the way he acts drunk but never sloshes his rum down his front. I love the way his every word comes out like a new breath, like he's thinking of what he's saying after he says it. Just little things, you know? He's a kind of silly man, in his way."

Will chuckled, "I...I must agree. Though you cannot let another soul hear it, I have a rather infectious affection for Jack too, sometimes."

"Only sometimes?"

"When he's not slurring his words at my lady or offering my life for a ship," Will nodded, "He's alright, I suppose."

"He's a little bit like our father, you know. Little things, I mean."

"How? Tell me," Will's eyes were pleading, and she felt a sad pang. Had their father even known about Will?

"Well," she started, remembering back to the last time she'd seen him, "You know how Jack has this little finger lift? He'll raise his index finger when he makes a point?"

Will nodded, and she smiled, "They both did that. They both said "Aye, you look lovelier than the last time we saw yeh" and "Here's our Desdemona, prettier than that there settin' sun." They both had an odd fascination for large hats...one summer, when I knew that they'd both be coming to visit soon, I made two hats from some old dresses I had. They were pink and flowery. They simply adored them...well, I suppose they didn't, but they pretended to."

Will looked out the window. He liked hearing everything, all of the stories, all of the news...and yet, it made him bitter. He was bitter that this woman, sitting in front of him, had known their father, loved their father, had their father for five years longer than he had. How was it fair that she'd been given the chance to have a parent, while Will had been left on a ship headed for the Caribbean, not knowing anybody or anything about his parentage? Yes, he'd known his father's name, and that he'd been, what the orphanage had called, a "merchant sailor." And, directly before the crossing from England, he'd been sent an envelope with only his name, encasing the accursed last piece of the Aztec gold, Cortes' gold, that had enslaved his father's mates until a mere few months before.

"Will...did you ever...I mean to say...did you hear from our father? Ever?"

"Only when I was sent a present."

She touched his hand, "Will?"

"What?" he said, his voice rather harsher than he'd intended. He took a deep breath, "What?"

"I'm sincerely sorry that you never met him. He was a good man."

"A good man. Like Jack." said Will bitterly, and Desdemona flinched.

"I thought you had affection for-"

"Yes, well, I said I do sometimes. I feel quite hard toward him at the moment."

"Why? Why, Will?"

"Because he knew my father!" Will shouted, "He knew my father and he did nothing to prevent his death. Jack knew about me, Desdemona. He knew about me as he knew about you, and he never did anything about me. It was only that you were his little girl, and you were sickly! He never knew that my mother died in childbirth, that I was in an orphanage until somebody on Tortuga sent for me-"

He stopped dead. Desdemona gasped in her own realization.

"Somebody on this island sent for you? That is why you made the crossing from England?"

Will's face was falling steadily, "He sent for me. I never knew who it was, but it must have been him. He must have known after all, and wanted to meet me."

"And when your ship never arrived-"

"He thought me dead."

Will shivered. The thought that his father had actually sent for him, had actually intended on knowing him, as a son, came as a large and fascinating shock. Had Jack known about it? Why had he never said anything?

Will sat with Desdemona for a good part of the afternoon, speaking of Port Royal and of the wedding.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Jack wiped his forehead with his hat as he stepped foot onto the island of Tortuga for the first time in nearly three weeks. He knew what he had to do, the first item of business, even before settling in at a tavern to take advantage of the cheap rum and rampant wenches - or was it the other way around? 

He had a letter to send. An old friend had procrastinated far too long, and so Jack felt obliged to step in.

He swaggered jauntily to the southern docks, and patted on the shoulder a hefty man wearing a ridiculously feathered hat - of course, the reason Jack had picked him out, after all, you can't just tap anybody on the shoulder, naught most of all in Tortuga. 

The man whirled around, "Can I help you?" he sneered.

Jack smiled charismatically, "Why yes, thanks for asking. What I need is this here letter," he pointed to the scraggly piece of parchment in his hand, "to be brought to this here lady," he pointed at the name at the top of the parchment, "as soon as you bloody well can. Then, when you come back from your little escapade in London, you bring with you the certain good that is desired in this here letter, savvy?"

"And what wages do you suppose I'll be given for the service and the extra loot?" queried the man.

Jack gazed insipidly at his own fingernails, "Well, how bout's seven shillings now," he placed the silver in the man's hand, "and a brand new hat when you get back, aye?"

"This is a brand new hat," the man glared at Jack, who merely raised his eyebrows.

"Aye, but it won't be brand new after the journey of harsh winds and rough waters, now will it, mate?"

The man raised his own eyebrows, and Jack held out his hand.

"Do we have an accord?"

"We do, dear fellow. We do."

They shook hands, and as Jack sauntered off of the dock, he looked out at the moonless sky above him and watched as the ship sailed away out of his sight.

"William, you'd better be thanking me," he muttered, then, turning on his heel, marched off to the nearest tavern, reminding himself to visit the other Turner offspring first thing in the morning.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

A/N - What do you think? I like the longer chapters with the glances at the past better, do you not all? I don't know when I'm going to finish this, or exactly how, but this is what the story is going to be. LoL. I'm going with the flow. What says you all, aye? *grins and falls over due to the ultrahotness of Johnny Depp in kohl.*   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. In Which Jack Doesn’t Like a Certain Lar...

Kin

Part Seven : In Which Jack Doesn't Like a Certain Large Hat

by : epiphanies

  
  
  
  


"No bloody way."

Jack was backed up into the very smallest corner of his Captain's quarters, staring at his adversary in horror.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and threw down a set of Will's clothing, "If you don't want to be noticed in Port Royal-"

"What if I wear a big white wig to be one of Norrington's poofters instead?" he looked disdainfully down at the civilian's outfit, and she turned to the door, "It's up to you, Jack. I'm not going down to the prison when they capture you."

"Don't care about you, long as you get your beddy-bye down there!" 

He opened the door and called after her, "He's the one who built the bloody cells!"

He sighed as she ignored him, then turned to face the unsightly uniform. He poked it uneasily, glaring at it.

"This had better be a bloody good wedding," he grumbled finally as he grabbed the pale blue hat from his bed.

  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

"On deck, you scallywags, and get this ship docked!" shouted Jack, who had managed to slither up to the bearings without being seen. 

Gibbs looked up from his post to see where the Captain had appeared from, but found him nowhere in sight.

"Jack?" he called cautiously, edging toward the bearings, then stopped short to see his Captain, hunched over behind the giant wheel, wearing a giant blue hat and high, shiny boots.

He clutched his stomach in hilarity, and Jack pulled him over.

He raised a finger to Gibbs' lips, "Not a word, mate."

Gibbs couldn't speak from containing his laughter. Jack glared at him, and pulled from behind him a small red hat.

"Yours," he smirked, and Gibbs stopped laughing.

"Well, you want to attend the wedding, do you not? Be thankful," he slapped it into Gibbs' chest, "You don't have to change much more."

  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

"I wonder if Jack ended up-" Elizabeth began as she, Will and Desdemona left the rooms below deck, but stopped short at the sight before her. 

Desdemona began to laugh.

Elizabeth had never have thought it possible. Jack was wearing the enormous blue hat, the shiny black boots, the fitted pants. His beard was out of it's beads and -combed-. His hair was in a knot at the back of his head.

His face was clean.

"I don't believe it," howled Will, touching Elizabeth's shoulder to stay upright, who just kept on staring, "How did you do it?"

Elizabeth shrugged and suppressed a smirk, "I told him it was the only way to get to the wedding. You know how much Jack likes weddings."

As Will nor Desdemona were on the Dauntless when that particular conversation had happened, they didn't really know what Will's betrothed was talking about, but he continued to laugh nonetheless, even when Jack walked up to him, straight postured and straight faced, and pursed his lips.

He tipped his head slightly, "Do you think we bear enough likeness to pass as father and son?"

Will stopped laughing, and eyed the pirate.

"Why?"

Jack shrugged, in his typical 'Jack' way, "More rum for the father of the groom?"

Will didn't answer, merely took Elizabeth's arm and walked her down the step-way to the docks, Gibbs following. 

Desdemona took Jack's arm, and she smiled at him, "What's it like without the kohl?"

"I feel like a cheap wench."

She laughed.

When they met the dock master, he tipped his hat.

"One shilling, it be?"

"Yes, sir," the man replied stiffly, and sniffed, "Have we not met?"

Jack raised his eyebrows, "I don't think so, ma-my dear sir. I haven't been to this here-to this dear town since my son," he waved over to Will, "since before my son was born."

The dock master nodded suspiciously, and closed his book on the three shillings Jack had dropped into it.

"Why'd you give him three shillings, Captain?" Gibbs whispered as they walked away. Jack smirked, "Force of habit."

"Elizabeth," he called, and Elizabeth and Will turned around.

"How far is it, darling?"

Elizabeth smiled, "We'll go to the Fort," she motioned to the enormous structure before them, "And they'll give us a carriage."

Jack's eyes widened as a carriage pulled up moments later, "Bloody hell," he whispered to Desdemona and to Gibbs, "Why'd we never get carriages when we go places?"

Desdemona shrugged amusedly, and glanced at the first mate.

"Pirates, I s'pose, Captain," replied Gibbs cheerfully as he stepped into the carriage, and Jack pouted slightly before he felt the tug of the horses. He whipped about to look out the windows, holding his newly acquired walking stick (from the dock man, of course.) 

"Land's wavier than the sea," he commented warily.

"I beg to differ," Desdemona patted his knee, "You sail like a maniac."

He straightened his beard thoughtfully, "Aye, but a distinguished one, and isn't that all that matters, darling?"

She laughed.

  
  
  
  


* * *

A/N Sort of a silly, short chapter. It'll get better with the next-s-s-s-s. I know how I'm going about it, and how to finish it! But, there are still surprises to come, to stick to it. :D 

~epiphanies


	8. In Which Will Has Slightly Chilly Boots

Kin

Part Eight : In Which Will Has Slightly Chilly Boots

by : epiphanies

  


"So, Will," Jack raised his eyebrows as they entered the vast home of the Swann family, "You don't happen to have any other rags that I can wear when-"

He stopped short, seeing Governor Swan in the hallway.

"Think quickly" he muttered, glaring at Elizabeth. She only laughed and hurried them up the swirling staircase. Jack eyed his surroundings.

"Nice lamp," he gestured offhandedly at the chandelier, and Desdemona smirked at Will.

They reached a locked door at the end of the hallway. Elizabeth stopped and pulled out a key, turning mournfully to Will.

"You two will be sharing a room again."

"What!" exclaimed Will as Jack cursed, rolling his eyes to the heavens.

Desdemona patted Jack's arm, "You'll be fine. I didn't hear about any riots when you had the same room at the tavern."

Elizabeth smiled patronizingly at Desdemona, "And you'll be in the room beside mine."

"She gets her own room?" Jack scowled, and Elizabeth put her hands on her hips.

"Jack, she's supposed to be your daughter, not your mistress. Why on earth would I have you in the same room?"

"So I don't have to share a room with snip-snip boy," muttered Jack, then pushed Will into the bedroom, shutting the door behind.

"Hope you've got some more for me than this, mate," Jack took off his hat immediately, revealing his red bandana, still fastened to his head as though it were stuck there permanently. Will snorted, then pushed Jack's boots off of a writing desk before they were properly placed there.

"You don't have to be here for very long, Jack."

"And why's that?"

"Because," Will raised his eyebrows, "The wedding is tomorrow."

"What!?" Jack's jaw dropped, "When did this happen?"

"Probably since the day you left Port Royal," said Will, matter of factly, sitting down and sighing in a stiff, high backed chair. Jack watched him.

"You're scared, aren't you?"

Will scoffed, "Why would I be scared?"

"Because she doesn't know."

"Know?" Will's brow knitted together, "Know about what?"

"Snip snip."

Will threw a cushion at him and crossed his arms, "I'm not scared."

"Ah," Jack raised a finger, "Basic psychology, mate. You're going to be enslaved, you have to know."

"What are you talking about?"

Jack shrugged, "First sign of defensive liars," he pointed at Will's crossed arms, "You never want to do that when she's asking you where you were the night previous, trust me, mate."

Will rolled his eyes, "Jack, do you honestly think-"

"I don't honestly think anything," Jack reminded him, "I'm-"

"Yes, I know, you're a pirate, and it's all pilfering and plundering and taking what you can. Except you're not going to steal anything in this house or at my wedding, Jack, so what are you doing here? And why does Desdemona hold you so close to her heart if you think nothing honest?"

Jack frowned at him.

"Look, boy," he leaned forward in his seat, "You're getting married tomorrow. Nevertheless to somebody that you've loved, and's loved you, since the wee days you met. How touching, right? Will, I may be a pirate, I may be dishonest, but my blood's not made of stone, mate. I like your wench, and I like you, even if you are a eunuch," he ignored Will's sputter and continued, "and no matter what I want to think about the either of you, I have to be at your wedding, 'cause it's me duty."

"Why?"

Jack blinked and looked down, "For your father to have seen it... he can see it through me eyes, in a way. If he couldn't be there, I'll be damned if I wouldn't fill in. Whether you want me there or not, son, I'll be there. After all, these swanky affairs normally have -excellent- cuisine."

Will stared at him for a moment, then looked away.

"I'd say thank you, Jack," he half-smiled out the window, "But by your own rule, you didn't mean anything of what you've just said, so I'll have to disregard it."

Jack smirked, "Bloody right."

Will chuckled.

  


Desdemona looked out at her view of the grand sea, and her mind began to wander. With the wedding tomorrow, how long would it be that she would have to wait until going back to Tortuga? Would Jack take her on the Pearl? Would Will and Elizabeth come with her? She already knew that she had lost her job at the tavern, and her medic was most likely floating on the next plateau by this time. What had she in Tortuga, what held her there?

Nothing, she realized as she stared down at the fair town of Port Royal, "Nothing stops me from just renting a cottage and staying here in Port Royal, with my only living family and his wife."

Perhaps it's the safety of having wealthy relatives that's pulling you so near, she reminded herself, After all, pirate -is- in your blood.

She sighed and wrapped a thin shawl about her shoulders. Her ebony hair whipped about in the salty breeze. She inhaled deeply, and smiled in content.

"Perhaps staying in Port Royal for a time is just what I need," she murmured, and nodded to herself.

"Just what I need."

  



	9. In Which 'I Do's are Said & Jack Doesn't...

Kin

Part Nine : In Which 'I Do' is said and Jack Doesn't Pilfer His Weaselly Black Guts Out

by : epiphanies

* * *

  


Governor Swann eyed Elizabeth as she sat at her dresser the next morning, struggling with her curls. 

"Are you quite sure that you don't want Odetta to help you with these, Elizabeth?" he asked gently, their eyes locking in the mirror. Her cheeks flushed pink.

"No, I'm fine. I don't need to have her fussing over me all of the time. I can handle myself."

"That's obvious," he chuckled in spite of himself - after all, he had to be a bit at odds with his insides, his only daughter was marrying a -blacksmith-.

She clipped the last curl into place and admired it with a smile, then turned and looked up at him, looming over her.

"I wish my curls were as easy to manage," she touched the tip of his wig adoringly, and his mouth broadened. He held her shoulders as she stood.

"You look stunning."

She smiled with an eyebrow aloft, "Do you really think so? Should I have opted for the other dress?"

"Definitely not. No dress with a corset will do for such an occasion."

"Yes, if I faint, you cannot blame it on that."

He laughed, and she wrapped her arms around him, careful not to stir her hair.

"I love you, father," she whispered, her eyes filled to the brim. He breathed her in, his daughter, his only one. The only woman left in his life. He was giving her away today.

"Now, I do love you too, Elizabeth, but you need not get sentimental." he beamed at her and stroked her cheek with an affectionate finger, "You need to get out there. They're waiting for you."

She sniffed and nodded, hiking up her skirts. She took a steadying breath, and slipped her arm in his.

* * *

  


Nobody had noticed Jack yet. 

Will took a steadying breath, and the suave-looking pirate eyed him.

"Relax, mate," he muttered, "She's not left you at the bloody altar."

Will hadn't even thought of that. Jack noticed the flicker of perpetual fear in Will's eyes and inwardly giggled.

"I don't like having my boots this shiny, mate," Jack complained quietly, looking down to stare conspicuously at his feet, "I can see me bloody reflection."

"Be quiet, for once, Jack." hissed Will, and Jack shrugged. He caught the eye of Commodore Norrington and nodded solemnly.

"He really believes that I'm your father?" he whispered, and Will rolled his eyes, "Of course he does."

"What an idiot."

"You're old enough."

"How would you know?"

"Oh, well how about-"

Will stopped dead. The music had begun. The veil at the end of the walk-way had opened, and he could see two forms making their ways into the sunlight. Elizabeth and Governor Swann, arm in arm.

Elizabeth was beautiful, in her creamy white gown, puffed sleeves, silken veil, billowing skirt in the caressing Caribbean winds... Will silently willed Jack not to whistle.

Elizabeth caught his eye, and smiled shakily. He did the same.

They were really, truly going to do this. His smile grew broader as he remembered their very first exchange...

*

"It's ok. My name's Elizabeth Swann."

"Will Turner."

"I'm watching over you, Will..."

*

"Do you, William Turner, take this woman Elizabeth..."

*

"And do you, Miss Elizabeth Swann, take this man William..."

*

"You may kiss your bride, William."

*

Jack squinted in the constant sun, and found Desdemona in the crowd. That ceremony had gone on -far- too long.

"Wasn't it beautiful, Jack?" said a wistful voice from behind him.

He smirked, "Lovely. You should have been closer, love."

Desdemona smirked right back, "Why, to see Will's shaking?"

"And Elizabeth's near-fainting. I was ready to catch the lass, you know, make Will look like a bad husband, and everybody will want her to marry me instead."

"That's an abomination," Desdemona laughed, "She wasn't even wearing a corset."

Jack took her arm and led her to the edge of the fort, where he had fallen (in escape, of course) only a few months before.

He glanced down quickly, then turned his attention to Desdemona.

"So, you ready for a drink?"

"Jack, I don't think they serve the wine until after dinner is served."

Jack scowled at the sunset, "Who ever heard of that?"

Desdemona leaned on a turret and examined him.

"So, Jack, was I just seeing things, or did I see tears in your eyes during the ceremony?"

This got Jack's attention.

"Tears? Maybe I was sweating out of 'em."

"You can't sweat out of your eyes."

"Then it was from the sun. Terrible position it was in, during that entire shindig."

"Shindig? It was your best friend's son's wedding, Jack. It isn't to be classified as a shindig."

"Clam dig?"

"Not even."

"I like clam-digs. You get to eat clams."

"Very funny. But never fear," she winked at him as they headed back to the crown surrounding Mr and Mrs William Turner, "I heard Governor Swann say that they're the first item on the menu."

Jack grinned.

* * *

  


Will had never shaken so many hands in his life - and he hadn't even been married for five minutes! 

He whispered in Elizabeth's ear, to many "Aw!" sounds from the crowd, "I'd rather be with you than all of these people right now."

She smiled warmly at him and took his hand.

"There's plenty of time left in this day, Will."

Will cursed wedding parties at that moment, then turned to shake the hand of a jovial, pastor-looking fellow, who continued to talk about how wonderful his union to Elizabeth was, and how long he had been waiting for it to happen. Will felt it would be awkward to ask the man his name and relation, so he merely smiled, took his wife's hand again, and continued their pathway of 'meet and greet' duties with a concrete smile.

* * *

  



	10. In Which Norrington is Smarter and Mushi...

Kin

Part Ten : In Which Norrington is Smarter and Mushier Than One Would Think

by : epiphanies

Desdemona sighed wistfully as she had dozens of times already that day.

Dinner had been wonderful. She'd stood and made a toast -on behalf of herself and Will's 'father' - and been applauded by the masses. She and Will had hugged, Elizabeth had beamed. Governor Swann had given her a kiss on each cheek. Her hand had been kissed by plenty wealthy men. 

The moon was out, and she was standing alone. Leaning on the turret she had been leaning on, speaking to Jack earlier. The waves were clutching at the shore, as they had in her dream several nights previous. The gulls were soaring in the sky, the stars twinkling at her. She could hear the pleasant music playing in the courtyard below.

"Miss Turner?"

She turned abruptly to face a clean man with a pure-white wig and rather remarkable blue eyes. She smiled.

"Commodore Norrington. Beautiful night, isn't it?"

He nodded, looking out at the sea.

"Why are you not joining in on the party? Your father-" he paused for a moment, furrowed his brow, and continued, "he's quite the dancer."

She chuckled, "Of course he is. But I suppose he's had his share of the rum also."

He patted his hat nervously, smiling.

"So," she raised her eyebrows, "Are you married?"

"I'm afraid that I am not," he blinked, grimacing slightly. She smiled, "Nor am I."

He furrowed his brow at her, "You're a lovely woman of class, I can only guess how many suitors you've had."

She shook her head, amused, "Actually, I've never had one. Not even one. I had a crush on - on my father's mate, when I was a child. I grew out of that and never found my heart fluttering again."

"Ah, a romantic," the commodore nodded knowingly, "I understand. Many men, many willing to support you and take care of you."

"But they will never love me," she whispered.

He turned to her, and she could see the hurt in his eyes, "But don't you understand? A man doesn't have to be a poor blacksmith, or a slave, or a miner, to be able to fathom love. A man can have wealth and stature and poise, and still be able to love a woman with everything he has."

She didn't say anything for a moment, then turned to the sea.

"A poor blacksmith, Commodore? You are in love with Elizabeth, are you not?"

Norrington looked at her, surprised.

"We were betrothed, rather emptily, for a short time."

Desdemona's eyebrows shot into her hairline, "And what happened?"

"All the while, she loved your brother. And I, being a fool, knew it, and still continued to tell myself that it was possible for her to love me."

Desdemona put her hand on his arm.

"I am sorry, Commodore. You will find somebody, someday. Elizabeth is lovely and I understand that you are heartbroken-"

"I'm no longer heartbroken," he interrupted softly. 

"What are you, then?"

He sighed, "A bachelor."

Her lips curved into a smile, "You know, my father was a bachelor once, and now look where he is."

"Miss Turner-"

"Desdmona, if you please."

"Desdemona, darling, I'm not a simpleton."

She frowned, "I don't believe that I-"

"That man down there is not your father. Or, if he is, he is at least not William Turner's father. That man is Jack Sparrow."

She bit her lip, "Now, what would make you say something like that? Something like -my- father, my lovely, darling father, is anything like the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Norrington only smiled at her.

She dropped the facade, "I shan't have used the 'Captain,' and I would have had it, no?"

The commodore locked eyes with her.

"You wouldn't hang him for being here, would you, Commodore?"

"Call me James, and I would have thought about it if he weren't so dear to Elizabeth."

She nodded, "I understand. He's not a bad man, you know."

Norrington looked troubled.

"What's the matter, James?"

"You're not his daughter, are you?"

She smirked, "No. Something like his God-daughter, minus the religious aspect."

He nodded, "As long as. I wouldn't speak to one's daughter badly about him, especially not on such an evening as this."

His eyes fell on her face, "Don't you think that moonlight makes people look striking?"

"The moon rather suits you well, James."

And she could see his blush.

She glanced down at the party below and started. Jack was staggering away from the wash of guests.

"As it does you, Desdemona."

She returned her gaze to the fixated Commodore and felt a pang of sympathy. She kissed his cheek impulsively, "I apologize, but I must get back to the party."

Before he could say another word, she was down the stairs and searching the sea of exultant guests for a very drunken pirate.

  
  



	11. In Which the Chapter is Short and Filler...

Kin

Part Eleven : In Which the Chapter is Short and Filler is Great

by : epiphanies

Will took Elizabeth's hand and led her onto the dance floor. The moon was out, and the sea was sparkling. This evening would prove to be more magical than anything either of them had ever experienced.

The music tinkled and they began to dance to the slow, romantic melody.

"Will?" she whispered in his neck.

"Elizabeth."

She smelled of Jasmine.

"You're a fine dancer. How did I not know?"

"We have never danced," Will grinned as they swept through the couples gracefully. She laughed.

"A blacksmith, knowing how to dance. An abomination."

"I'm also the son of a pirate," he reminded her quietly, and she frowned, "What has that to do with it?"

Will shrugged, "Oozing with charm."

She kissed him lightly then, a blush forming on her cheeks. His finger caressed her neck.

"The music's beautiful," she mused, and he nodded, "Very classy."

"Speaking of classy, I wonder where Jack has gone?"

A woman appeared at his elbow at that moment.

"Desdemona, what's the matter?"

"Have you seen Jack?" she asked concernedly, and they shook their heads.

She cursed.

"Why, what's the matter? Has he been found out?"

She started, then shook her head, "No, no. Don't worry about that, it's just that he's rather drunken and I don't trust him."

"I wouldn't either." Elizabeth nodded, "Do you want us to help you look for him?"

Desdemona smiled at her, "No, darling, you just enjoy your wedding party. I'll find Jack."

She hurried away, and Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at Will. 

"I hope my father hasn't recognized him."

"No fear, he'll be fine," he reassured her, though in his heart, he wasn't so definite.

  
  



	12. In Which the Moon is a Mirror

Kin

Part Twelve : In Which the Moon is a Mirror

by : epiphanies

Desdemona found finally Jack, sitting on the docks, grazing his toes in the sea.

"Jack." her hands were on her hips, behind him. He turned swiftly around, and when he saw her, he cursed.

"Desdemona, why do you always have to know when I'm gone? That's not good."

She inwardly smirked at his slurred voice as she sat down beside him, "And why, Captain Sparrow, is that anything less than magnificent?"

He frowned at her, "Pirates are s'posed to be mysterious! How can one be mysterious when he has a wife-y woman always after his tail?"

"I'm not after your tail," she laughed, patting his knee, "I'm just worried about you."

"If anythin', I should be worrying 'bout you, love," he bowed his head, "I haven't been takin' a lot of care, as I should."

"Nonsense," she argued, "I've not felt sick since we first arrived on this island. Actually, since we first left Tortuga, for the greater part. I think that sailing was good for me."

"You're the daughter of a pirate," he reminded her, "of course it was good for you. How could it possibly not?"

She smiled, "Touche."

They stared at the stars for a bit, and she caught Jack glancing at his ship.

"Jack, are you going to leave Port Royal?"

His look was sharper than his cheekbones.

"Why?"

She shrugged, flushing, "Oh, it doesn't matter, it's just that, well..."

"I'll come back to visit you, you know that."

"But, it's not the same. I spent my entire life waiting for you to return to me, where I was stranded on some island. I want to see the world, Jack. You've seen it, my father saw it. Why can't I?"

"You're a woman," he grunted, "And you're ill. Two good reasons right there."

"But I've a better one."

He raised his eyebrows, "And what's that?"

She smiled weakly, "If I stay here with the newlyweds, I'm afraid I'll go mad."

He laughed, a nefarious, pillaging, uproarious laugh that spelt 'Captain Jack Sparrow' all around. He slung an arm about her.

"You were talkin' to Norrington, though, love," he said seriously, looking into her eyes, "I saw you. All lovey-dovey. You could marry him and be well off, and he could take care of you."

"But I'd rather take care of myself and travel with you."

Jack seemed like he wanted to say something, then paused. 

"What is it?" she asked desperately.

"It's just that....you're giving up a perfectly sound romance, however boring," he narrowed his eyes at her, "to travel with a pirate. Tell me honestly, Desdemona. Do you have... inklings about any certain members of me crew?"

She laughed, "Only you, and it's one of a very proud and very esteemed daughter."

His form shrank in relief, "Well. That's spectacular. I was afraid of the worst."

"The worst?"

"That I'd have to see you and Gibbs grabbing at each other all day."

She snorted, "I'm not ladylike at all, am I? But that's besides the point. Mr Gibbs? Never. He's too...distinguished for me."

"The crew ain't young and chipper, girl," he warned, and she nodded, "But that can always be changed on the day we adventure into the high seas and pick up a few of the sturdier young menfolk, correct?"

Jack shook his head with non-soberness and with amusement, "You're too much like William for me to bear."

"You were his best friend."

"Exactly."

She glanced at her hands, newly tanned and smooth. She had always been pale, and now, after only a few days of semi-adventure, she felt perkier than she had in her entire existence.

"Jack?"

"Aye?"

"How are Will and Elizabeth so happy?"

"Some people are just meant to be together, I suppose. Though Elizabeth showed her true colours once the rum got in her blood."

Desdemona's eyes rose, deciding not to ask. She shook her head of the thought, then looked up.

"Jack, do you ever try to see your reflection in the moon?"

"I'm not a fan of mirrors, myself," he commented mildly, "The moon is just a big round one, isn't it? I fancy it made of cheese."

"I like cheese."

"I love cheese."

"I love you, Jack. You've been there for me entirely too much, and it's one hundred percent your own fault that I do love you."

"I'll love you forever, Desdemona. Ever since I saw your raisin little face when you were first born, I knew. We three, you and I and your father. Kindred, you know? Forever, even if the poor man is in the depths."

"Why have you never spoken of love before, Jack?" she turned to him intensely, touching his forearm, knowing that she was touching the infamous tattoo that he'd had stamped on there years before.

Jack blinked, then silently looked at the transparent sea below them.

"I mean," she continued, "You've never spoken of love. Not once, not really. Barely even of your passion for the Pearl, and it mystifies me, Jack."

He winked, "Then I do still have my charm."

"Jack-"

He waved his hands in the air in protest, "Fine, fine. I loved Gisele, and Scarlet, and Nymphadora, and Dunnadawn-"

Her face fell, "But Jack, truly. You've never told me any sweeping love stories, or romantic ballads. You've never said whether you have children, or have a wife, or once had a wife. You've said nothing this entire lifetime of mine. Not of a someone, or an anyone or even a no-one. Why?"

"You want to know why?" Jack's face had seemed to sober considerably. She nodded.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the sea, before she could scream in protest. She emerged, gasping.

"Jack!" she shrieked, and he grinned, "You have to learn how to do that if you want to be a pirate, love."

"Piratess," she grinned back as he helped her back onto the dock, "But in all seriousness, Jack, I really do wonder about you."

He whipped his wet hair about to dry it, then gave her a solid look, "Desdemona, I have ne'er married. Ne'er had me own little peddlefoots. Ne'er basked in the glory of having a woman loving me, having me about, givin' her things and her not carin' because she loves me all the same. The women that love Jack Sparrow love him because he swaggers, he slurs, and he's bad. He's nothing like a sweeping hero that they dream about marrying."

"He isn't anybody," she reminded him, "without you."

He waved her off, "I'm nothin' without him. Captain Jack Sparrow. We're, so-called, empty nests without the other, and we understand that well and perfect. So what's the point in rocking the ship?"

"For happiness?" she suggested softly, and he scoffed, "Happiness is the spray of the sea, the pirate's code, plundering and pilfering and taking what you can."

"Then why did you even come back to see me every time you did, years ago?" her eyes were filled with tears, "If I didn't make you happy?"

"You did!" he grumbled, "I never said you didn't, wee one. You were the only thing beautiful in me life."

Her lip trembled, "Are you sure?"

He nodded at her, "Of course. And that isn't the rum talking, missy."

"I'm sure," she laughed softly, drizzling her toes in the water again, drumming her fingers against the wood of the dock. Her gaze found itself on the Black Pearl.

"Jack?"

"What now?"

She leaned on his shoulder, "It's a shame you didn't have children. If you'd had a son, I could have married him."

Jack laughed and smiled a gold tinted smile, though she couldn't see him, and said in a voice below a whisper, "You would have been too good for him."

"Surely," she agreed, "But there is some rather outstanding scale in Elizabeth and Will's situation, is there not? When my father sent for him, I doubt he meant in any way for it to end up like this, his son marrying the Governor's daughter."

Jack frowned, "William never sent for..." he trailed, then stopped. What did Desdmona think? How had she come to 'know' that Will had been sent for by his father? 

Of course, Jack knew the truth. William had died, and Jack had summoned his child. Why hadn't he ever thought more of that? If he'd left Will, he would still be in London, fresh from an orphanage's grubby hands. He and Elizabeth never would have met, Jack would never have been sprung from prison, actually, the Pearl never would have come to Port Royal, because Elizabeth wouldn't have had the medallion. 

Desdemona looked puzzled, "William never sent for who?"

"Never mind," Jack turned away, pondering.

"No, Jack, no," she groaned, "You cannot just do that all of the time! Tell me what happened, if William, our father, didn't send for Will. Who else could have, who else would have known to?"

Jack didn't say a word.

And then she understood.

"Oh, Jack," she sighed, leaning back on his shoulder, "Must we tell Will?"

"He'll be devastated," agreed Jack, shooing away a part of his pirate-self that wanted to tell Will in the meanest, lowest, most pirate-way ever invented and adopting his good Samaritan mind.

"He's happy thinking that father did it," she convinced herself, and she thought that she had convinced Jack also, until she heard his snoring. He'd fallen asleep, resting on her head.

She sighed. She had a decision to make.

* * *

A/N : Just to a reviewer who found 'no point' to my last chapter, I just want to justify it by saying this : it gave a pathway to this chapter. You shall see in the future chapter(s?) that Will and Elizabeth would have been left out of this sub-plot entirely if I hadn't have put in that transition. Therefore, it was necessary in the long-term run of the story. 

I would like to thank everybody that has taken the time to read this story. It will be finished rather soon, I'm afraid. I'm going to focus on more of my original work after this is complete, so I'll have less time for fanfiction. Keep reading though, please, and keep reviewing. You guys keep me breathing.

~epiphanies


	13. In Which All Depart Unluckily

Kin

Part Thirteen : In Which All Depart Unluckily

by : epiphanies

  
  
  
  


James Norrington awoke to the beatific sunrise over the waters of Port Royal. As the fiery light danced over the soothing waves, a splash of colour illuminated his bedroom chamber. He sniffed and ran his fingers through his dark, cropped hair.

"And the sun rises on another morning on the island of Jamaica," he murmured, slipping on his dressing gown and glancing into his looking glass. He raised an eyebrow at his own disarray and decided to immediately change into his uniform. He turned to his wardrobe, but before stepping toward it his attention was caught by an envelope on the floor, seemingly slipped underneath.

"What on earth," his eyebrows furrowed, and he silently reminded himself how stuffy he sounded, even when he was by his lonesome. With curious hands he picked up the note and unfolded it. His eyes grew wide as he read it aloud: 

"Dear James... I very much enjoyed our engagement yesterday evening... You will make a very fine husband to a very fine woman... I am not that fine woman. You were undoubtably swayed last evening by my poise, and perhaps my mystique... James, daughters of pirates, I'm afraid to say, have some rather misleading charms... I am sorry, James-"

-

"-but I must follow my path, or, so to speak, ride my wave," a clearly dishevelled Will read disbelievingly from the doorway, Elizabeth staring at him will tearing eyes from their bed, "If ever you need me-"

-

"-find Captain Jack Sparrow and I'll not be far behind. I appreciate your kindness more than you will ever know," the Commodore sat down sadly onto his bed, defeated.

-

"Love, Desdemona."

  
  


-

  
  


"How be you, Miss Turner?" asked a kind voice from behind her.

She turned, the wind whipping her hair and not feeling a bit sick, to smile at Mr Gibbs.

"I feel magnificent."

"The Pearl'll do that to you, Miss."

"Please, Joshamee. Call me Desdemona."

He smiled and she smiled back, and she gave a little wave to Jack, who was glancing back at the line that was Port Royal with eyes that only read one way : He was worried that they were going to be followed.

She grinned deeper and shouted, "Weigh the anchor, Jack, there is no turning round!"

Then, she raised a golden-dazzled hand in salute to the crew and they joined her in screaming to the ocean, to the wind, to the world: 

"Drink up me hearties, Yo Ho!"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


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The End!!!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Did that surprise you? The end part? 

I apologize. I forgot to warn you. This is the inevitable last chapter - at least for now. Perhaps I shall continue in the future, but I am doing a historical vampire novel(la?) which I am sure will take up a lot of my writing time. Hope this is satisfactory, if not a little bit...er...mean. :D I'll continue on with PotC fics as well, they're so fun. Thanks so much for your support in all this, guys. You're all too sweet. And I didn't show Desdemona making her actual decision...well, because it would have taken away from the "oomph" and the "ahh." I think. Er. LoL. TTFN, all of you lovely people. Hugs to all.

  
  
  
  
  
  


::Update:: (about five minutes later from last little "the end" blurb.) It'll probably continue. I've decided now. In another story form, perhaps, but it shall continue sometime. I've left too much out there to play with. *grin*

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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